


Soldier On His Knees

by Gotta_Love_Garcy (kt_anansi)



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Garcia Flynn on his knees, Smut, Timeless, garcy, loving smut, soulmate love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-06-30 02:44:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15742539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kt_anansi/pseuds/Gotta_Love_Garcy
Summary: Charades and Vodka





	1. The First Time

The first time Garcia Flynn was on his knees for Lucy Preston he probably shouldn’t have been- or at least it would seem abhorrent to some. He was on the run- in a dive bar in Sao Paulo, Brazil. He was on his third double (lets be real, he told her third drink… But nah, he was a big man- He needed more liquor to get through). She walked in, book in hand.

“Garcia Flynn.” It wasn’t a question.

“How do you know my name?” He asked. She was beautiful, but he wasn’t giving anyone the time of day.

“I know everything about you, Garcia. And about your family, too. I have a way to help you.” The bar tender had slowed down cleaning glasses by now. Garcia was too drunk to notice, but Lucy was quick to see him pull out a simple double barrel shot gun. Lucy didn’t hesitate to shoot him.

“We should go.” She whispered in Garcia’s ear, her breath hot on his neck. “Not everyone is as much a fan of theatrics as you are. The police will be here soon.”

So, they ran. He left all his stuff behind (he had been staying above that bar, which turned out to be a Rittenhouse hideout) and they went to a hotel across the city.

Lucy let the drunk man cry for his family- the alcohol breaking him down. He didn’t know what it was about her, but she was so familiar. She offered to take the floor, but he asked her lay with him- she obliged him. He cried and cried as she held him. She hummed a tune to him, told him that they would both know it later. She only ever kissed him on the head- once or twice he felt tears fall from her eyes, onto his hair- that was when he knew that she loved him. It took him twenty-four hours to fully sober up, before she could really talk to him. When he did sober up, she was direct, honest, and thorough with her directions for him.

When she mentioned time travel, it clicked. He knew where he had to know her from- the future.

“I am leaving tomorrow.” She said, she was dressed in a simple red dress, with flip flops on. She had stayed with him a week- just to make sure he would be okay. “I am going to miss you.”

Garcia, who had been reading the journal stood up and walked toward her. 

"Am I this broken in the future?” he asked. The woman breathed deep and raised her hand to cup his cheek. Tears began to well in her eyes.

“You’re perfect in the future.” She says, eyes glowing with love. “Misunderstood at times, but perfect.” She laughs lightly. Garcia spots a glint of metal as she withdraws her hand.

“You’re married.” Lucy pulls her hand up and looks at the ring- she looks as if she is remembering. “Yes, well. Sort of.”

“Did he die, too?” Garcia asks before he can think better of it. She nods, and he asks “How are you so strong?”

“Because he is strong- and no matter how many times it takes, we will come back for one another.” She brings her hand up to his heart, again she says that she will miss him- this time its impossibly tender.

Garcia kisses her, and she doesn’t pull away. Their acts of affection are a mixture of love and grief- a mutual grief. Within moments he finds himself on his knees before her, a goddess come to redeem him. He gives offerings to her, which she receives in ecstasy. Where he acts on instinct, she acts on knowledge. Every caress, every kiss, every gentle bite is calculated. She knows things about his body that not even Lorena knew. Things that he didn’t even know.

“You’re my soulmate.” He says simply, when they are done, and basking in the afterglow. “Did you know?”

“You never said.” She admits, “But I knew you were mine- and I hoped. I hoped.” She kisses him again, tears falling.

When she leaves, she kisses him one more time.

“Maybe this time, we will get it right.” She says.

And he hopes, he hopes.


	2. The Second Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charades and Vodka

The second time Garcia Flynn is on his knees for Lucy Preston, they are playing charades. Literally, charades.

She had come to his room with a bottle of vodka, looking to prolong the fun night they had in the 1930s. So, Garcia put a record on, they cracked open the bottle, and with in an hour Lucy was looking at him with a glint in her eye.

“Do you like games?” she asked.

“Hmm, what kind of games?” Garcia asked, intrigued, yet skeptical. “Like, mind games?”

“No.” Lucy said, a coy smile on her face as she stood up from the bed and brushed past Garcia who was sitting in a chair. She grabbed a pad of paper and a pen from his desk. “But those can be fun, too.”

Garcia let out a little laugh, as Lucy scribbled some words on the paper. She then ripped it off the pad and began to rip it into strips and fold them in half. She then handed him a pad and paper and told him to write six things and do the same.

“Do you have a hat?” She asked looking around the room.

“Uh, yes. The one from earlier today, actually.” He got up and went to one of the lockers that he stored his stuff in. Opening it, he was aware of Lucy’s eyes following him. Thoughts of Sao Paulo and her red dress briefly flit in and out of his mind. Sometimes, if he looks at her too long, he can feel her hands on him, he can taste her. He had to remind himself that this wasn’t the same Lucy, not yet at least.

Shaking away his thoughts, he came back and sat across from her. She put the pieces of paper in the hat, and he added his.

“I have to warn you, I am pretty bad at this.” She said laughing.

“Then why pick the game?” He asked, although, he feels like he may be beaming at her.

“Oh, I don’t know, just thought it would be fun.” Her smile is sincere.

“Good enough of a reason for me.” For a moment he is certain that Lucy is blushing. He needed to look away- she’s so beautiful, it hurts.

“Okay, I’ll go first.” She mixes up the papers and hands the hat to Garcia. He grabs it, mixes them again and then stretches out his arm so she can pick one.

“No peeking!” He says, and she covers her eyes while smiling. She pulls her piece of paper out and looks at it.

“Okay, you obviously wrote this one…” She said, as she gets up. She mimics a quarterback telling a team mate to go long.

“I don’t know what that is.” Garcia says laughing.

“What? You wrote it!”

“No. I wrote football- Hint, I am European?” Garcia says, chastising her. “That is not it, that’s American spandex wrestling.” Lucy starts laughing hysterically, then begins mimic another sport.

“Ah! Soccer!” Garcia yells.

“You’re an ass.” Lucy says, definitively.

“And yet, here you are, spending time with me.” Garcia gives her an ‘I told you so’ look. Lucy looks away, smiling. When she brings her eyes back, they are on the hat. She snags it.

“Okay, tall boy. Your turn.” She says.

“Tall boy- that’s a new one.”

“eh, its truthful.” 

Garcia selects a paper. There is one word, ‘kitten’. Oh god, he thinks to himself, this is going to be embarrassing.

“Nope. I am not doing it.” Garcia says, he grabs the bottle of vodka and takes a drink… He sits back and looks at her.

“C’mon!” Lucy yells. “I did it!”

“Yeah, but yours wasn’t as embarrassing, Lucy. Trust me.”

“C’mon, Garcia!” Lucy begs. Garcia is struck- he looks away. It’s the first time she has used his first name. suddenly the smiles are wiped from both their faces as she realizes what she said. “Please? For me?” She asks sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

“How could I say no to that?” Garcia says. So, he takes his hand and licks it like a cat, then smooths it over his hair. Anyone should be able to understand that, right? Lucy laughs.

“I don’t know what that is…” She says, eyes squinted, face exaggerated to look as if she is in thought.

Garcia rolls his eyes and stands up. He stretches and gets on all fours. He pretends to stretch like a cat and extends his fingers like claws.

“I don’t know.” Lucy says, she grabs the vodka and takes a swig. “Gotta work a little harder, Garcia.”

“You’re trying to humiliate me, aren’t you?”

“No talking! That’s cheating.”

He rolls his eyes at her again then gets up and gets on his bed. He rolls around a little- doing a perfect impression of a feline, and since Lucy is laughing her face off, he nuzzles up to her arm and purrs a little.

The smile on Lucy’s face is precious, as she pets his hair lightly and says, “good kitty.”

But, then her hand doesn’t leave his hair. Instinctively, he sits up straighter and her hand slides to his face, Lucy’s smile is gone replaced with a look of, well- if Garcia didn’t know any better- desire. Her eyes flit to his lips, and Garcia swallows hard. Working his jaw, Garcia debates between kissing her, and looking away. Before he can decide however, Lucy strokes his cheek, and pulls him toward her- she kisses him lightly.

“No kissing, Lucy,” Garcia says against her lips with a smile, “it’s cheating.” 

“Shut up, Garcia.” She says, pulling him down on to the bed.

They kiss for a while, until the vodka catches up with them- after which, they fall asleep in each other’s arms. When Garcia wakes up, she is tucked into his side- her hand over his heart, on his bare chest. He strokes her hair, and kisses the crown of her head, before slowly separating himself from her. He puts on a new shirt, and makes some coffee for the two of them.

When she wakes up, she sees a smile that lights up the room, and a blush that warms her, head to toe.


	3. The Third Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mice, flour, garcy.

The third time Garcia Flynn is on his knees for Lucy Preston, there is a mouse. It goes like this:

He woke up, as she slumbered by his side, curling into him for warmth. These days, their relationship was in some intangible limbo- they didn’t have a label. He however was completely and utterly besotted, and she was on her way. Only time would tell. Every once and awhile Lucy would put her hand on his chest and kiss him softly. Once or twice, he stole a kiss from her, when his cheeks were pink from whiskey, and his heart giddy from her presence.

In front of others?

They were friends, they talked, joked around. They touched limbs, her hand on his arm as she asked him to pass the butter. His hand on the small of her back, as she exited the lifeboat. Rufus spied Garcia’s knuckles ghosting over Lucy’s spine once or twice- his lips quirked curiously, but he didn’t push it. Jiya saw Lucy smack Flynn’s butt after he teased her when they thought no one was around.

And then when Croatia beat England and made it to the championship game for the Soccer (ahem, Football), World Cup, Garcia and Lucy were jumping up and down in excitement. Forgetting Mason was in the room, Garcia picked Lucy up, and twirled her around. She kissed him on the cheek. And then slowly on the other side. Before their lips could meet, there was a cough from Mason, and then the alarms started blaring. Garcia let a very pink-cheeked Lucy go, as Mason awkwardly pretended that never happened.

But this morning, all bets were off. Lucy had been begging Garcia to teach her to make his famous Crepes, and he was more than happy to indulge a lost cause (actually, he really believed she could do it- she just needed to be persistent and develop her skills for cooking and baking). Garcia slowly roused the beautiful woman, who was still clad in her pajamas. They both got up, and made coffee then began to work on their breakfast. Lucy was pouring flour into the egg whites when she heard it- a squeak. Two seconds later she saw it.

Suddenly, there was flour everywhere, and a grown woman attached to Garcia Flynn’s back. He had heard a scream containing his name before she made contact, but the motion surprised him none the less.

How the hell did Lucy jump that high?

She hid her face in the nape of his neck, “There is a mouse.” She squeaked.

“Lucy…” He heaved, unable to breathe, “I’m sorry, you’re choking me.”

“Oh, sorry.” She said. As she maneuvered to the counter (again, how???), and sat there. Apparently when mice were involved, Lucy was spry, and able leap tall Croatians in a single bound. “Flynn? Please… Can you get the mouse?”

The man chuckled as he looked at her- her hair was a curled mess, she had put it up that morning, but now there were strands sticking out every which way, she had flour on all over her mane, on her face and clothing. Trying not to laugh at how adorable and silly she looked, Flynn grabbed a flash light, a trap and some peanut butter. Lucy pointed to where she last saw the culprit, and he lowered himself onto his knees to set the trap.

Getting up, he tried to get the flour off his khakis. Lucy laughed as he got his hands messy.

“It’s not that bad…” He said, when she was laughing so hard she was turning red.

“Umm… Well, there is Lucy-shaped outline on your back.” Another set of laughing lungs had joined them. It was Rufus- he came in and poured himself a cup of coffee, as he surveyed the damage. “When did a tornado come through here?”

The trap snapped.

Rufus looked shocked.

“Was that… a mouse trap?” His eyes were wide as Flynn got down on his knees and picked up the poor creature- or creatures, rather.

“Hmmm… we got a two for one.” Flynn said, expression somber. He never liked killing animals, as much of pests as they could be- he preferred to let innocent creatures live.

“Aw, Flynn!” Rufus said, “Not Mulder and Scully!”

“You named your mice after the X-Files?” Lucy asked.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Rufus. Truly.” Flynn said as he grabbed a plastic bag and wrapped up the vermin. He offered him the bag, and a dumbstruck Rufus took them.

“I was using them to experiment on the impact of long-term quantum energy exposure.” He said in a whining voice.

“And them getting out of their cage? That was part of the experiment?” Lucy asked. “You know some of us like to keep our food in our stomachs… So, you should keep your mice in their cages.”

“Hey, I’m not your boyfriend, Lucy. Get off my back.” Rufus said, obviously still upset.

“Fine.” Lucy said, through clenched teeth. “Flynn… Will you gimme a piggy back ride to the room so I can get cleaned up?”

“Lucy, the mice are dead…” Flynn said, laughing.

“Please?” she whined, “Just in case?”

“Fine,” He smiled. Somewhat more enthused about carrying her than he should be. As they left, Flynn apologized, but Lucy stuck her tongue out at Rufus. She really hated mice. 

“That’s right, you murderers- You run away!” Rufus yelled after them.


	4. The Fourth Time

The fourth time, Garcia is caught off guard.

“Jessica is pregnant.”

Flynn isn’t entirely sure what to say to Lucy… He is kneeling in front of the river, splashing his face with cool water. It had been a silent ride on horseback for a half hour, until he was finally able to make Lucy laugh, by being hit in the face with a tree branch. For the next two hours, they had a pleasant conversation- nothing too intense. Flynn could sense that Lucy was going through something, likely douche-bag related. He, however wasn’t quite expecting this.

“Lucy…” He said, turning. Her face is in her hands, as she sits at the base of a tree. Slowly, he uses the back of his index finger to lightly stroke her hand. It’s a small gesture, meant to prompt her to open up to him. To his surprise, she lunges forward and wraps her arms around him.

“Hey, hey… what’s this about?” He is rubbing her back and keeping his voice low and soothing.

“I just, you know…” She gulps, gripping tighter around his neck. “I thought I was past it, I thought I… had gotten past feeling betrayed. I want to be happy for him, I want to be okay.”

“You will, Lucy.” He soothes, “You’re the strongest person I know… You can get through this.”

“I can’t do it anymore… I can’t just be okay.” She is crying into his shoulder now.

“Healing a broken heart takes time.” He says, feeling his own heart cracking a little. He notices then that he would do anything to make her pain go away. To make her fall out of love with Wyatt. He just wants to make her world whole, but he can’t do that, when she loves someone else. What started as slight infatuation, had developed into a crush while she was chasing him through time, and now… _And now?_

_He loves her._

“Whether two pieces, or twenty, a heart can still be put back together, it just takes time. And patience.” He says, pulling her back to look in her eyes. They are red-rimmed, and she tries to hide from him. However, he catches her hands before she can put them over her face. “Don’t hide, Lucy…. Not from me. I can handle it.”

“I am not worried about you not being able to handle it…” She hiccups, trying to control herself. “I am just worried about looking like I got lemon juice in my eyes.”

She lets out a tiny laugh.

“No matter what you look like, you’re beautiful to me.” Flynn says simply. He moves to cradle her face in his hands, and kisses her forehead, slowly and deliberately. When he pulls away, Lucy is staring at his chest. Suddenly, he fears that he has overstepped. Afterall, their relationship has no clear definitions or boundaries, so he isn’t sure if she is okay with that sort of affection.

Again, she surprises him. Taking a fist full of his shirt, she pulls him down into a kiss. It’s not like the other kisses they have had. Those were drunken and sloppy, or playful and chaste. This however, is deep and full, and it knocks the breath out of him. After what feels like forever and no time at all, she pulls away. Her eyes search his, looking for something that he desperately hopes she finds. Their breathing winds down from rapid and heavy, to slow and deep. Somewhere in the distance gunfire rings out, and a dog is barking.

They remember then, they are in the middle of The Civil War, and in the middle of their mission.

“Thank you.” She whispers, and then she gets up.

“Anytime?” He says innocently. And he hears her let out a small chuckle.

Later that night, when they are back in twenty-eighteen, he is glad that she chooses to come to his room. She apologizes for not having vodka, and he tells her she brought the only thing that matters. For the first time, they lie on his bed together, and she pulls his arm over her.

She has questions, he can feel it. But, for the night, they pretend that those questions, those traumas, don’t exist. And they fall asleep, content.


	5. The Fifth Time

The Fifth time he almost tells her…

_Almost._

_Why are you here?_

_For you, Lucy, for you._

_Why are you here?_

_Because, I love you, Lucy._

_Why are you here?_

Silence.

 

His breath catches, he feels warm.

He can’t tell her.

Not here, not now.

 

Her eyes widen,

She knows.

 

_She knows, then she looks away…_

 


	6. The Sixth Time

_The sixth time... he is holding her._

_They are in an alleyway,_

_he found her being beat half to death-_

_Courtesy of Emma Whitmore._

_He is going to kill Emma._

_Violently._

_But for now,_

_he holds Lucy,_

_As she sobs his name._

_“Flynn, Flynn…_

_I can’t… I can’t…”_

_He holds her closer,_

_Resting his forehead on hers…_

_He prays he can take her pain away._

_He prays that she can feel comfort from him._

_God he wants to…_

_He doesn’t know._

_He wants to make it better._

_He wants to make her happy._

_He wants to help her._

_When they get back,_

_He goes to find her,_

_he sees her with Wyatt._

_Part of him hates himself for the pain he feels._

_But, he loves her._

_He wants her to be happy._

_Even if it’s not with him…_

_There is a voice in the back of his head…_

_And it asks, “Why can’t it be me?”_


	7. The Seventh Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Depictions of injury of a pregnant woman, without full resolution. 
> 
> Contains Sexual Content.

The seventh time, he tells her.

“Garcia?” Lucy’s voice is a whisper behind him. “Are you okay?”

He nods, his gaze transfixed by the fireplace. They are in some time, some place. Truthfully, it doesn’t matter. Rufus is saved, Jessica is very pregnant, very much in labor and very injured- thanks to him. Wyatt is a wreck- he might lose his little girl. And as much as Flynn might dislike the man, he can’t help but think of Iris…

The only upside, Emma is dead.

But, Lucy… How can she even look at him?

He was trying to protect her, he had no choice.

He tried to make the shot non-fatal.

_He tried._

_But will it matter?_

Jessica could have shot at any moment, she had a gun to Lucy’s head.

He possibly killed a child, an innocent.

Lucy is going to hate him.

Lucy _should_ hate him.

He hates himself.

“Don’t lie to me.” She sounds wounded, he can feel her gentle touch on his arm. He had been in the middle of dressing… After the shootout, Flynn went into shock. Lucy said something to Wyatt and Rufus, and she then led him somewhere. They got into a carriage and went a few towns over from San Francisco… They were at an Inn. She had helped him wash up, he was supposed to dress and get ready to eat something, but he couldn’t. All he could think of was that Lucy could have died.

 _And_ he shot Jessica Logan, she fell. Lucy grabbed her gun. Wyatt came yelling and running. Flynn made a tourniquet, and while he tied it, a pool of red spilled from her lap.

_Oh, god._

_She had to be seven months along?_

Logically, he knows she went into shock- her body went into labor.

After that, his ears began to ring, he couldn’t focus on anything… He stumbled. Lucy, ordered Wyatt and Rufus to do something. They disappeared with Jess into the Life boat. Lucy, Jiya and Flynn were to find and take back the Mothership.

But, maybe Emma blew it up. Who the fuck knows?

He doesn’t know when he lost himself staring into the fire. Her touch, gentle and short-lived as it was, blazed a trail on his all-too-tender flesh.

 _“Please? Look at me?”_ She pleads.

She stepped in front of him to catch his gaze, he was sure that he looked broken… Head hanging in shame before her. She raised her hands, to cup his cheeks. Her gaze was soft, searching. He tried to turn away…

_Devils shouldn’t be looked upon by Angels._

“Don’t.” She whispers. “Don’t shut me out…”

 _“Lucy,”_ he groans, a tear rolling down his cheek. _“Lucy, I can’t…”_

“You did what you had to do… _You saved me._ ”

He looks away, he can’t bear the intensity in her eyes.

“I would have done the same for you.” Her eyes, they see every part of him.

“But the baby… Wyatt’s baby…” His voice broke. He couldn’t be the reason someone’s child was gone.

“They jumped with Jess, took her to the hospital.” Lucy stated plainly. “She was 8 months along- the baby should be okay.”

Garcia nodded. He wasn’t sure exactly when it happened, but he was on his knees, with his hands over his face- crying. He can hear Lucy’s skirts rustle as she places herself in front of him. Her hand is in his hair, soothing him. He nestles into her, clutching her as he cries.

Eventually, she is on her knees, too. She holds his head against her chest, as his arms are wrapped around her waist.

“Lucy…” He cries, “I am a monster.”

At that, she lifts his head up.

“No, that’s not what I see.” Her tears mingle with his as she kisses him. Slowly, her hands explore his naked chest, the heat from her creates a tender and delicious burn that he almost forgot existed. He hasn’t felt the touch of a woman in so long… He is surprised that he isn’t embarrassed about his moaning into her mouth. He finds that he is desperately searching for the ties on her dress, and she doesn’t stop him. It takes a bit, but she is stripped down to a burgundy slip- surely it is a guilty pleasure from twenty-eighteen that she allows herself, he finds he doesn’t mind. She takes a break from kissing him, long enough to open his trousers. He feels his heart skip a beat as she pulls him out.

Suddenly, the moment is electric, he fears he may combust.

“Garcia?” She asks, and he realizes he must be gaping at her. “Is this okay?”

She is straddled above him, he can feel her heat licking at him. But, they aren’t connected yet.

He nods and swallows hard, staring into her eyes. He kisses her again, and it’s slower, deeper, more intense.

“I love you, Lucy.” He says softly.

She nods as a few tears spring forth, he sees her mouth something, but can’t hear anything.

_He needs to hear it._

“Lucy?” He asks, his voice rough as sandpaper.

“I’m okay.” She says, still clinging to him. “I love you, too.”

Her kisses make him forget his pain.

He hears her breath catch, as she takes him in.

She flexes her hips, and the feel is everything. Deep inside her, he feels whole. He holds her tight while she clings to him. Later, he will give her everything, he will explore, touch, kiss, and memorize her the way she deserves. But right now, she seems to know what he needs. She is balm on his tired soul. She gently stokes a fire, comforting embers, meant to warm him head to toe.

As he feels his release coming closer, the cloud of his shock seems to lift. He feels the weight of her against him, the reality of it sets in. He pulls back, as if seeing her anew- and he crashes his mouth into hers. His hands have woken up and they search for and find every sensitive part of her. There is renewed purpose and intention in his movements.

He gathers her against him and keeps two connected as he lifts her up, off the ground, and takes her to the bed. Forehead to forehead, they share the same breath as they find their release. They stay in bed for as long as they can. Intertwined, they bask in the afterglow, easing one another's pain, drinking in the other's anguish- stitching together their brokenness. 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	8. The Eighth Time

_The eighth time Garcia Flynn_

_is on his knees before Lucy Preston,_

_he asks her to marry him._

_He is afraid, for just one moment,_

_that she will say no._

_There is no hesitation,_

_through tears, she breathes,_

_"Of course, yes."_

_He isn’t sure when it happened_

_or even how it happened..._

_but, he lives._

_One day,_

_he realizes that whatever The Lucy from_

_Sao Paulo was trying to do or avoid..._

_Well, she succeeded._

_Lucy usually succeeds._

_They end up having twins._

_They name them Asher and Anya._

_Garcia feels like an old man and yet…_

_He makes sure to run with them,_

_play with them._

_He makes a point to tell them stories,_

_to sing to them._

_They write silly stories together and put on_

_puppet shows for Momma- which she laughs_

_At and adores..._

_Especially the puppet shows about_

_The Time Bandit and Sassy the Scholar-_

_which is the historian’s hero name._

_He becomes a house husband,_

_Which he suprisingly relishes._

_He loves her,_

_she loves him._

_He loves them,_

_And they love their Daddy-_

_they run to him- squealing and screaming._

_Begging him to do "The Helicopter" one_

_more time._

 

_He tells them about Iris,_

_about how she would love them,_

_about how she would protect them…_

_He doesn’t want them to not know..._

_He doesn't want to forget._

 

_Momma tells them about Aunt Amy._

_She hopes that they believe her,_

_even if there is only one tiny picture for proof._

_They aren’t overly religious,_

_but they do make sure to pray._

_He gets on his knees every so often,_

_to hold his kids close,_

_And offer a prayer of thanks._

 

_On bright and sunny San Francisco Saturdays,_

_He can be found making Belgian Waffles,_

_As Lucy squeezes fresh orange juice._

_Asher and Anya play hide and seek,_

_And scratch as daddy and momma come to_

_round them up for breakfast._

 

_Lucy takes a moment to wrap her arms_

_around_ _her husband's waist,_

 _he kisses the crown of_ _her head._

_They look at one another,_

_"Aren't we lucky?" Lucy asks._

_"I'd say blessed, my love." Garcia whispers_

_and kisses her softly._


End file.
